Nothing To Say
by SFGrl
Summary: A songfic series. It's pretty freaking depressing. Enjoy!! {complete}
1. Nothing To Say

"Nothing To Say"  
  
She didn't really say anything. And even if she had, it wouldn't have had the same impact on him as the look in her eyes did. He could see it, he could see that she was lost. He could see that the passion, the love, and the devotion was gone. It broke his heart, much more than any words or gestures could have.   
But he wasn't surprised. He'd seen this coming. They had been dating for three years, but they had been friends for much longer. He knew her so well, and yet, ironically, he had no idea how to hold on to her. He was angry at himself for losing the best thing that had ever happened to him, and angry with her for not trying harder. She'd said she was feeling insecurities, and he'd told her that it would pass. He had no idea how wrong he was.  
  
So here they were, standing in the moment. Letting their world collapse around them as they stood in a bitter yet somber silence in the centre of the apartment that they had made their own. It had been their home, for so long. Now, in the moment that would change their lives, she, flanked by two suitcases that held her life's possessions, struggled to find a way to tell him that it wasn't his fault. That it was her decision, and her heart, and that she was sorry that she had to leave. But none of that came out, and she knew that really, none of it mattered. She could see it in his eyes. He was letting her go. Letting her go because he loved her with all his heart, and that fact alone was killing her. She reached out to him, but he backed away. He looked at his feet, as his toe scuffed the rug nervously. He wanted her to leave, and end the moment. Or stay, and try again. He heard her sigh, letting out a shaky, tensed breath, before picking up her suitcases and walking out of his life. There was nothing more to say. It was over.  
  
  
  
Days can be lonely  
Night lets you down  
Wonder and wander  
There's no one around  
Nothing to say now, nothing to do  
I can feel my heart breaking  
And it's all 'cause of you  
  
Nothing to say now, nowhere to hide  
I can feel my heart breaking  
All the love left inside  
  
  
It was Christmastime. The time of year when you are supposed to be with the one's you love. It had been two months since that fateful day, yet he still found himself thinking about her constantly. He walked the streets of New York, watching miserably as bundled up families hustled down the snow-covered sidewalks, their eyes sparkling with merriment, as they paused to gaze at the twinkling lights and the elaborate window dressings of the large department stores. Children giggled, and couples cuddled, as light flakes of snow danced through the air. Yet through it all, he only saw her. That night, in a moment of blind passion, he called her, to wish her a Happy Holiday, and perhaps to see if she was miserable too. But from the sound of her voice, he could tell that she wasn't. And before he could control it, he told her he loved her still. She sighed, and said she knew, then said she had to go.   
  
It was the third time he'd called her. She knew it wouldn't be the last. She wanted him to move on, and yet, it was somehow comforting to know that someone still loved her so much. She didn't want to admit how much she missed him in her life. She was too stubborn to let her heart rule her life choices. She was the one who had walked out, she was the one who had given up. She had to leave that life behind. She had to let go.  
  
  
Each time I've called you,   
You said we were through  
All that I wanted is to be with you  
There's nothing to show now, nowhere to go  
Nothing to tell you,   
You don't love me no more  
Nothing to say now, nowhere to hide  
I can feel my heart breaking  
All the love left inside  
  
But if in your heart, you could love me too  
Let me come back home  
I can change for you  
If you ever find, that you miss me too  
If you want me back  
I'll be there for you  
Days can be lonely  
Days can be lonely   
  
She sat in Central Park, watching as children played with their parents under the new Spring sun. Spring was her favourite season. It symbolized a rebirth, a new beginning. The dead of winter falls away, and new life begins. Over the past few months, she'd found that her stubborness was the reason she was so miserable. She'd hidden her feelings well from her friends, friends that she knew still saw him, too. They'd told her, not long ago, that he had finally let go, that he had finally moved on. They'd said that her name was Alicia, and that she was beautiful. That was when she had realized that she had made a mistake. She had walked away, because she was afraid of the intesity of the relationship, and afraid that perhaps, the whole thing would self-destruct. She hadn't trusted herself, or him, enough to see that the love they had for each other, it was all that they had needed, and all that they ever would need. She had freaked out, because she was always afraid that someday, he would. But he didn't. He was always the one pushing the relationship forward, begging that they take it to the next level. He was the one that insisted that they could make it work, and then, later, he had been the one that had wanted to move in together. He was everything she had ever wanted, which was why she was just as shocked as he was when she had said 'no' to his proposal. It was her gut reaction, but it wasn't one either of them had been expecting. But now, she realized that her own fears and insecurities were the only reason that she was alone now. It wasn't because he didn't love her enough, nor was it because he loved her too much. It was because she hadn't let herself love enough, or maybe she hadn't let herself be loved enough.   
She realized, at that moment, that she still loved him, she still needed him. But she couldn't have him, because now his heart belonged to someone else.   
Or did it?  
  
Daytime is lonely  
Night gets me blue  
Nothing to say now, nothing to do  
Nothing to say now, nothing to show  
I can tell you don't love me, you don't want me no more  
Nothing to say now, nothing to do  
Oh, my heart it was breaking  
I've been praying for you  
So if in your heart, you can find a way  
Just to take me back, let me try again  
Oh, if in your heart, you could say it's true  
Let me come back home, I'll be there for you  
Days can be lonely  
Days can be lonely  
Days can be lonely  
Days can be lonely  
  
~*~  
Did this make sense? There will be another part, with another song, soon. And I promise not to write the entire fic in the third person. Please review!  
"Nothing To Say" Words & Music by Chris Isaak 


	2. Worked It Out Wrong

Okay...uh, I fixed the last chapter...it was supposed to be Central PARK, not Central PERK, and I swear, I do know the difference between second person and third person...I have a college degree and everything! LOL.  
That was embarassing. Anyhoo, on with the fic.  
  
"Worked It Out Wrong"  
  
It was summer in the city. It was a hot and sticky day, and Monica's air conditioner was broken. Typical. She sighed, and decided to take yet another shower, before heading out to the market. At least they would have air conditioning. She showered quickly and dressed slowly, before heading downstairs.  
  
She was picking out some flowers when she saw him. It was the first time she'd seen him since That Day. He'd stopped calling months ago, probably because of that Alicia woman that Ross had told her about last spring. She tried her best to avoid him, but he saw her too, and after a moment of uncomfortable indecision, he approached her.  
  
"Monica," he said quietly, as though saying her name was painful to him.  
  
"Hi, uh, Chandler," Monica replied, unable to look at him as she spoke.  
  
"How are you?"  
  
"Okay...you?"  
  
"I'm hot," Chandler laughed, then stopped abruptly and sighed.   
  
The moment of silence that passed was tense and uncomfortable, and made both parties want to scream.  
  
"So, uh, Ross tells me you uh, have a girlfriend?" Monica couldn't believe her own audacity. She hadn't seen or spoken to Chandler for months, and *this* is the first thing she brings up?  
  
"Oh, uh, yeah, Alicia. We, uh, broke up last month," Chandler shoved his free hand into his pocket, and nervously swung his small red shopping basket with the other.  
  
"Oh. Sorry. It's really none of my business."  
  
"No, it's alright. What--uh, what about you?"  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Are you uh..."  
  
"Oh, oh, no. No."  
  
Chandler nodded, then sighed.  
  
"So, uh...why did--" Monica stopped suddenly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing. It's none of my business," Monica shook her head.  
  
"Why did Alicia and I break up?"  
  
Monica nodded sheepishly and rocked back onto her heels, as her face turned crimson.  
  
"Well, a lot of reasons, really. We didn't have a lot in common. Joey hated her. But I guess..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It was mostly because...she wasn't you," It was Chandler's turn to blush.  
  
"Oh," Monica was taken aback by Chandler's blunt honesty.  
  
"You certainly aren't easy to get over, Mon."  
  
Monica felt herself closing up, unsure about how to respond to Chandler's comment.  
  
"I...uh, I'd better go," Chandler smiled slightly.  
  
Monica nodded silently, and watched as Chandler turned on his heel, and headed for the cashier. Only after he was out of earshot did her voice finally return. She took in a deep, much needed, breath, and let her tears fall freely.  
  
Chandler grabbed his shopping bag and began to make his way out the door. Something inside him stirred, and he turned quickly, and scanned the small market. His eyes fell onto Monica, still rooted to the same spot where he'd left her. She looked up, and he could see that she had been crying. It took all that he had not to go back to her, and take her into his arms, and tell her it would all be okay. But he reminded himself that she had left him, not the other way around. She didn't love him. Yet there was a look on her face that made him wonder...if he was wrong. He turned and walked out the door, a thousand thoughts fluttering through his mind. As he walked down the street, he replayed the day Monica had left in his head. She had seemed so sure of her feelings. The woman that had walked out the door was not the woman he saw in the market today. He sighed as he made his way into his apartment. He had an uncontollable urge to put his sweat pants back on. Again.  
  
  
I don't have anything I got to do all day  
Lie in bed and watch TV  
I don't have anything that I need to say  
I know that you're hurting too, I know you're all alone   
I know that you're coming back, I worked it out wrong  
Worked it out wrong  
  
I'll be silent, I'll be strong  
I'll wait for you to come to me  
And I know it won't be long  
I know that you're hurting too, I know you're all alone   
I know that you're coming back, I worked it out wrong  
I worked it out wrong  
  
  
Monica sat in her apartment two days later, feeling just as miserable as she had since her encounter with Chandler. She realized, after that day, that she was miserable before the encounter, she just refused admit it. She wanted to go back to her old apartment, and pound on the door, and tell Chandler she was sorry, and she was wrong, and she wanted him more than anything in the world. But she couldn't do that to him. She didn't want to hurt him again. She once thought that she was not capable of hurting someone she loved so much.  
She was wrong.  
  
  
Time, time means nothing  
No nothing, means nothing when you're gone  
Baby I'm lonely, and I'm sorry  
I was wrong  
I worked it out wrong  
I worked it out wrong  
  
  
"Chandler? Hellooooo..." Phoebe waved her hand in front of her friend's blank face.  
  
"Huh? What, uh, what's up, Pheebs?"  
  
"Chandler, what is wrong with you? You've been acting funny all week."  
  
Chandler sighed. He looked at Joey and Phoebe, and relented, when he saw the look of concern in their eyes.  
  
"I ran into Monica."  
  
"What? When? What did she say? What did you say?" the questions were fast and furious.  
  
"At the market. A few days ago. Not much was said. I think she's just as miserable as I am, though."  
  
"Do you want me to talk to her?" Phoebe offered.  
  
"No. I mean, of course, talk to her. But don't talk to her for me. About me. Whatever."  
  
"Uh, okay," Phoebe looked utterly confused.  
  
"Do you think you'll see her again?" Joey asked. "Do you think you'll talk to her again?"  
  
"I have a feeling I will," Chandler smiled slightly, then got up and walked out of Central Perk, leaving his friends to wonder just what he meant by that.  
  
  
I know that you're hurting too, I know you're all alone   
I know that you're coming back, I worked it out wrong  
Worked it out wrong  
  
  
"Wow," Rachel sat back, taking in the story she had just forced out of Monica.  
  
"Yeah," Monica nodded, her eyes glued to the contents of her coffee mug.  
  
"What, uh, what are you going to do?"  
  
"I have no idea. I don't want to hurt him again...but..."  
  
"You still love him," Rachel nodded.  
  
"How could I have been so stupid? Why did I throw away the best thing that ever happened to me?"  
  
"I think the only question you should be asking yourself right now is--will he take you back? Because you have to go back. You have to fight for this."  
  
  
Time, time means nothing  
No nothing, means nothing when you're gone  
I'm lonely and I'm sorry  
I was wrong   
Worked it out wrong  
I worked it out wrong  
I worked it out wrong  
  
~*~  
Yeah. "Worked It Out Wrong" is also by Chris Isaak. He makes good heartbreak songs. 


	3. Fumbling Toward Ecstasy

"Fumbling Toward Ecstasy"  
  
Monica thought about what Rachel had said to her. She thought about it for a week. But she couldn't seem to work up enough courage to visit Chandler. She was still afraid that one, or both of them, would wind up hurt again. As much as her heart wanted to give in, her head kept reminding her that she made her bed--she was going to have to sleep in it.  
  
***  
  
Chandler was laying on the sofa, a book in his hands, his eyes trying desperately to focus on the page in front of him. But he could not longer fight his mind and body, so he dropped his book onto the coffee table and began to doze off.   
He was halfway between consciousness and unconsciousness when the front door swung open, and Joey, Ross and Phoebe walked in, chattering about...something. Chandler sighed and sat up, blinking his weary eyes back into focus.  
  
"What's up, guys?"  
  
"Hey, Chandler, we ordered pizza, and we rented two movies," Phoebe said proudly.  
  
"Oh. Okay. Where's Rachel?"  
  
"Hanging out with Mon-er-uh...with her mom," Ross stumbled.  
  
"With Monica? It's okay Ross, I'm not going to break down and cry at the mention of her name," Chandler laughed.  
  
"I just thought maybe you'd had, like, a relapse or something," Ross muttered.  
  
"Why, because I saw her in the market two weeks ago?"  
  
"Well, yeah. And, uh, no offense, man, but you look like hell."  
  
"Thanks," Chandler quipped sarcastically.  
  
"I said no offense," Ross replied.  
  
"Whatever. I just haven't been sleeping well lately. I think it's just this weird change in the weather."  
  
"We can watch these over at Joey's if you want," Phoebe suggested.  
  
"No, it's alright," Chandler said, standing up and stretching, "What'd you rent?"  
  
"Die Hard!" Joey and Ross yelled simultaniously, as Phoebe rolled her eyes.  
  
"Cool!"  
  
***  
  
The next morning, Chandler wasn't feeling much better, but had to go into work for a meeting. He sat in his office, trying to gather his strength. It had taken everything he had to come into the office at all. He layed his weary head on his desk, and silently cursed himself for using the last of his sick days last month. Served him right, he supposed, for calling in all those times when he wasn't really sick.  
  
"Bing!" Doug's booming voice shook Chandler awake, and he pulled up his head, and tried to focus on what Doug was saying.  
  
"You coming to the meeting Bing? Or are you gonna sleep on the job?" Doug laughed, and walked out of Chandler's office. Chandler sighed and stood up to follow, but his legs felt weak and wobbly. He steadied himself, using his desk for support, and then slowly made his way toward the conference room.  
  
The conference room was located at the eastern corner of the building. Under normal circumstances, it took Chandler all of about two minutes to make his way over there from his office, and that was when he was taking his sweet time getting there. But five minutes had passed since Doug had barged into his office, and Chandler had barely made it down the main corridor. The walls around him seemed to be swaying, and he couldn't seem to focus on the relatively simple task of putting one foot in front of the other. Was he drunk? He couldn't remember drinking anything, and besides, alcohol had a tendency to make him even more hyperactive than he usually was. His head felt heavy, like someone was sitting on it, and his entire body ached. Maybe he should have just stayed home after all. As he passed the elevators, he felt the room start to spin. Voices around him seemed to be echoing, and then everything went black.  
  
**  
  
Doug tapped his pencil impatiently on his folder, as he glared at the empty chair across the conference table. He sighed heavily, and made his way out of the conference room. As he approached the elevator lobby, he saw a group of people hovering over something on the floor. Pushing temps and assistants aside, he saw Chandler sprawled across the ground, unconscious.  
  
"I found it!" Helen, Chandler's assistant, came running down the corridor, with a file folder in her hands. She began to thumb through the folder. "He's not allergic to anything...Betty, did you call an ambulance?"   
  
"They're on the way."  
  
"Okay, well, this is his emergency contact card. Try to get a hold of these people," Helen handed the blue index card to Betty, who rushed to the phone. She turned over the card, and dialled the first number on it.  
  
"Alessandro's," a voice on the other end answered.  
  
"Hi, may I please speak to Monica Geller?"  
  
***  
  
Monica could not get to the hospital fast enough. She was glad that Chandler had never taken her off of his emergency contact list, though she knew that he probably just forgot to. Even after all that they had been through, she still felt a need to protect him somehow. She made her way into the hospital, and looked around frantically. She spotted Rachel, standing near the ER waiting area.  
  
"Rach, what happened...is he okay?" Monica's eyes were full of panic.  
  
"Mon, calm down, he's fine. He passed out at work, and they are just doing some tests--"  
  
"Tests? What kind of tests? Can I see him? Where are the others? Have you seen him?"  
  
"Monica! Stop it, okay? The doctor will be out here in a minute, and the others are coming. I got here first because I work near here. I haven't seen him yet, but the nurse assured me he'll be fine."  
  
Monica finally took a breath, and sank down into a green plastic chair.  
  
"I just...I got the call at work, and all they said was that the ambulance was taking him...I..." Monica shook her head. She knew that she was being irrational and melodramatic. But her emotions had been on edge for days, and this little incident just sent them careening over the edge.  
  
"Mon, it's okay. He'll be okay," Rachel sat down next to her friend, and took her hand.  
  
"I just...I was so scared that he'd never know how much I love him," Monica whispered.  
  
"I know, sweetie. I know."  
  
"Where is he? Is he okay?" Ross, Joey and Phoebe came running into the waiting area.  
  
"I think so. The doctor should be here soon," Rachel said.  
  
"What happened?" Joey repeated.  
  
"Are you Chandler Bing's family?" a short, curly haired doctor appeared next to Ross.  
  
"Yes," the group answered in unison.  
  
"I'm Dr. Rosenbaum. Please have a seat," the doctor addressed the three standing friends.  
  
Once Ross, Pheobe and Joey were seated, Dr. Rosenbaum looked at the group intently.  
  
"Mr. Bing is suffering from exhaustion and a mild case of pneumonia," the doctor stated flatly.  
  
The group sighed a collective sigh of relief, happy that Chandler was going to be okay.  
  
"Can we see him?" Monica asked.  
  
"In a little while," the doctor replied. "We are running a few more tests."  
  
"Why?" Ross asked, his evident concern concerned Monica.  
  
"Just precautions," the doctor said vaguely, then walked away from the group when a nurse approached him.  
  
***  
  
Three hours later, the group was sitting restlessly in the third floor waiting room, near where Chandler had been transferred. They had yet to see him, and Ross could see that Monica was growing more and more anxious. When Dr. Rosenbaum finally re-appeared, Monica was so tense she practially jumped down his throat.  
  
"He's awake, if any of you would like to see him. Two at a time, please."  
  
Monica turned to the group, and they all nodded, knowing that she wanted to see him alone. She followed the doctor down the pale green corridor, and into Chandler's room. The doctor left Monica alone, closing the door as he left.  
  
Chandler was laying on a bed in the middle of the room, surrounded by beeping monitors and bags of fluid. He had tubes coming out of his arms, and an oxygen tube in his nose. Otherwise, he looked like he was sleeping. Monica took a deep breath and approached the bed slowly. As she sat down in the large armchair next to the bed, it skidded on the floor, making an awful noise. Chandler opened his eyes and turned toward the source of the noise. He looked at Monica, and smiled wearily.  
  
"Hey you," Monica whispered softly.  
  
"Hi," Chandler replied.  
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
"Horrible."  
  
"You know, you scared me to death," Monica said softly, as her fingers ran nervously over Chandler's blanket.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah. They called me at work and said that you were unconscious, and that they were rushing you to the emergency room..." the memory of the call shook Monica up more than she realized. Her eyes began to water. In those moments following the call, Monica had had an epiphany. She'd realized that she could not lose Chandler, and that she needed him much more than she ever realized. Rachel had been right--Monica needed to fight for him--for them.  
  
"Mon, you don't have to stay...if you feel uncomfortable here. I'll be okay."  
  
"I want to be here, Chandler. I need to be here. Chandler...I don't know what happened to us last year. I don't know how to fix all of the pain I've caused you. I...I love you, so much," Monica wiped her teary eyes with the back of her hand.  
  
"Monica, I...I love you too. But--"  
  
"No buts, Chandler. Not tonight. I know that you don't trust me. I know you're scared. I am too. But I am not afraid to love you anymore. I'm not afraid to be loved. And I can prove it to you. I will. If it takes me the rest of my life, I will prove it to you. Please."  
  
  
  
All the fear has left me now  
I'm not frightened anymore.  
It's my heart that pounds beneath my flesh.  
it's my mouth that pushes out this breath  
  
and if I shed a tear I won't cage it.  
I won't fear love  
and if I feel a rage I won't deny it.  
I won't fear love.  
  
  
"I can't decide this tonight. I need time to think, Mon, and tonight I don't have the energy," Chandler looked at Monica somberly.  
  
"I'll wait. I'll wait for as long as I need to."  
  
  
Companion to our demons  
they will dance and we will play.  
With chairs candles and clothes  
making darkness in the day.  
It will be easy to look in or out  
upstream or down  
without a thought  
  
and if I shed a tear I won't cage it.  
I won't fear love  
and if I feel a rage I won't deny it.  
I won't fear love.  
  
***  
  
Chandler was released from the hospital four days later, but was instructed to stay home from work for another week. He was more than happy to follow doctor's order's.   
  
"Hey," Monica made her way into the apartment she used to share with Chandler. It was her first time back since she'd left, and she was surprised to see how clean it was.  
  
"Hey Mon," Chandler said, looking up from his book as she entered the room.  
  
"How are you today?"  
  
"Better. I can hold an entire conversation with Ross without dozing off."  
  
"Wow, I can't even do that when I'm healthy," Monica quipped. She relaxed slightly when Chandler chuckled.  
  
"Mon, I've been spending a lot of time thinking about what you said. Thinking about what happened."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Yeah. I, uh..." Chandler closed his book and sat up straight, and leaned against the arm of the sofa. "I do love you. But...I...I don't know how much I can trust you."  
  
Monica nodded slowly, and tried not to cry until Chandler was finished. She had a feeling that he would reject her, but she didn't want to believe that he would.  
  
"All those things you said to me before...I mean, I was in a hospital bed, ya know? I just wonder if this hadn't happened...did you...did you really mean those things?"  
  
"Of course. Chandler, my life has been miserable without you. I made a horrible mistake."  
  
"How can I be sure? Monica, if I lose you again...if I tell you that I want to marry you, and you turn me down again...it will kill me. I can't...do...this--unless I am sure. Absolutely sure."  
  
"I can't give you guarantees."  
  
"Then I can't do this."  
  
"Okay," Monica turned to leave. As she opened the door, she looked back at Chandler. He was watching her, his eyes betraying the determination that was in his voice. She locked onto his gaze, and said,  
"All I have is my heart Chandler. And it's yours. It's broken, but it's yours." She turned to leave again.  
  
"Monica."  
  
Monica turned, her heart racing. She fought to hide her smile.  
  
"Can you get me some water before you leave?"  
  
Monica's eyes widened. She could not believe he could be so cruel. She had just poured out her heart, and he was shrugging it off as though she had just given him the weather report. Remarkably, she held her composure, and fumbled for a water glass. She filled it and tried to control her trembling, as she handed Chandler the glass. He took the glass with one hand, and grabbed her wrist with the other.  
  
"I don't want you to leave," he whispered softly.  
  
  
Peace in the struggle to find peace.  
Comfort on the way to comfort  
  
and if I shed a tear I won't cage it.  
I won't fear love  
and if I feel a rage I won't deny it  
I won't fear love.  
I won't fear love.  
I won't fear love...  
  
~*~  
  
okay, that's it. i'm bored with this one now.  
"Fumbling Toward Ecstasy" by Sarah McLachlan. See, I listen to other people too. 


End file.
